


Hold Back The River

by jencsi



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 07:50:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8136085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jencsi/pseuds/jencsi
Summary: Finn and Nick; nightmares can plague even the toughest people





	

He was awakened by an ear shattering scream, then the feel of the bed moving as the blankets were thrown over him. He turned over and heard the door to the bathroom slam shut, the light creeping out from under the frame, and then the horrifying sound of her throwing up. He shot out of the bed and stood outside the bathroom, knocking gently on the door and asking "Babe are you o.k.?"

"Go away," she snapped at him, though muffled because of the closed door.

"Are you sick?" he asked "what happened?"

But she didn't answer him this time and that concerned him. He sighed and pushed open the door. She was there, on the floor, curled up against the wall, piercing him with a sad look, tears in her eyes, shaking uncontrollably.

"Hey," he said kneeling in front of her "what is it? What's wrong?"

"I saw him," she muttered shakily "he was here, I saw him Nicky."

"Saw who?" he asked.

She trembled, terrified as she uttered weakly "Gig Harbor"

"No," he said immediately "he's in jail, remember?"

"He was here," she insisted fiercely, tears pouring down her face now "he found me, he's going to get me again I just know it."

She was beyond terrified; convinced that somehow Paul Winthrop was here.

"I've gotta get out of here," she said frantically now trying to stand up but she whimpered in obvious pain and fell back against the wall, weak. She cried out in frustration when she couldn't bring herself to stand and kept crying.

Nick hated seeing her like this. He hated what that sick bastard had done to her and was clearly still doing to her despite it being over a year since her attack and coma.

"C'mere," he said now, reaching out to her but she recoiled at his impending touch, feeling vulnerable, her stomach aching.

"Don't" she whimpered helplessly "just leave me alone."

"I don't want to," he said plainly "you're hurting, you're scared, let me help."

"You shouldn't have to," she said piercing him with a sad look and he knew she felt embarrassed by all of this.

He sighed, stood up, went to the bathroom sink, grabbed a towel from the rack, soaked it in warm water, and then returned to her side. He scooped her up, expecting her to protest but felt relieved when she didn't. He settled with his back against the hard wall instead, settling her in his lap, taking the towel and beginning to wipe away the tears that had soaked her face. He was silent as he worked, brushing her tangled hair out of her face, noting how hot her skin was from all the crying. She kept her head down, avoiding his gaze while he worked until he lifted her chin, checking for any missed spots but also getting her to look at him properly.

"You don't have to do this alone, okay?" he said, wanting to be sure she knew he was going to be with her no matter what.

"Okay," she finally gave in, leaning against him weakly.

After wiping away most of the tears that had stained her face and getting her to calm down, he scooped her up again and carried her back into their room. She was so tiny and light in his arms that he didn't want to set her back down on the bed just yet so he settled with her in his lap on the cushiony arm chair they kept in the corner. He pulled down the closest blanket that was draped over the back of the chair and unfolded it, covering her with it, smiling when she pulled it all the way up to her chin.

"Better?" he asked pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"A little," she sniffled.

"I feel so stupid," she lashed out a minute later "it was just a dumb nightmare but God Nicky, it was so real."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked tentatively in case she was still on edge.

"He was standing right over me," she began without hesitation "he was watching me, with those awful dark eyes and when I tired to move he put his hand around my throat, he wanted to kill me, I couldn't breathe, and I- I don't know what woke me up but, my stomach hurt and I felt so sick, it was so real- he was so real Nicky."

She was babbling, choking back fresh tears, folding her arms around her stomach under the blanket as it ached again.

"It's okay," he soothed not wanting to upset her any longer "I got the gist of it."

"Did, did that happen to you?" she asked now, her throat burning from crying and being sick "you know, after you were kidnapped?"

"Yeah," he admitted sadly "I would dream that I was back in that box and that no one was coming to rescue me, or that I was trying to rescue someone else from it but couldn't."

"What did you do to make them stop?" she asked glancing at him hopeful for a solution.

He didn't want to break her heart with the truth but he had a hunch that she already knew.

"Nothing sweetheart," he said "there was nothing I could do, as years went by, they lessened but occasionally they get mixed in with my regular dreams."

"Oh," she said dropping her gaze to the blanket that she was wrapped in, feeling crestfallen.

She felt as if she had run a marathon. She felt achy all over, just like after she woke up from the coma or anytime she battled the flu. Her stomach continued to churn unpleasantly, sore as if someone had punched her there repeatedly. But she was exhausted. She longed to close her eyes and sleep but sheer terror of what she might see once she did prevented her from doing so. Instead she rubbed her eyes furiously trying to stay awake.

Nick knew she was tired and needed sleep. He started to move her, telling her "Come on, let's get you back to bed."

"No," she protested grabbing at his hands that were starting to scoop her up again "please, I can't- I just can't."

"Okay, all right, I'm sorry," he soothed, angry at himself for agitating her but also angry that he couldn't hunt down Winthrop in jail and make him pay for what he was doing to her.

So they sat there in that chair, hardly moving, having small talk in whispered tones. She seemed to be the calmest when he was holding her tight, running his fingers through her hair. She lay her head on his shoulder, still sniffling occasionally but thankfully no longer choking back tears.

"Nicky?" she called quietly for him after a few silent minutes.

"Yes sweet pea?" he said using a nickname she loved.

"Will I ever be normal again?" she asked.

"You are normal," he assured her "I've told you before, this stuff, these nightmares, they don't define you, remember what Sara told you?"

"We get to decide," she recited Sara's words to her shortly after her coma when she felt out of sorts mentally and physically.

"That's right," Nick soothed her, rubbing her back "so it's your call sweetness, what do you want to do?"

Truthfully she felt better now and the continuous motion of his hand on her back was comforting and made her sleepy.

"Sleep," she finally concluded.

"Good idea," he said patting her side gently.

In one motion he had scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to the bed. He tucked her in under the multiple blankets she slept with and had flung hastily off of her in her moment of terror. He hurried back around to his side of the bed to get under the covers with her. He barely had time to settle down when she cuddled right up to him wanting that same warmth and protection she had prior to the nightmare. As promised, he held her as she started to slowly drift back to sleep. Despite the fear the nightmare had induced, and the physical symptoms that manifested because of it, she couldn't help but enjoy being calm now with Nick beside her making her feel safe from everything that plagued her. This was their normal, she thought happily, and normal was overrated anyways.


End file.
